Decidedly Disastrous Date
by wienerpigs
Summary: When Tifa accepts Reno's offer of a date in order to spite Cloud, the worst evening of both their lives ensure. Meanwhile, Yuffie's got a few more tricks up her sleeve. . . Story in three parts. COMPLETE
1. In which Tifa accepts

"I'm almost out of my mind," Tifa groaned to the hyperactive ninja sitting on top of her bar, now occupied in seeing how many times the revolving chair could spin her in one push.

"Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" was the unsympathetic response.

"Yuffie, please stop. You're making me dizzy, and you're not helping my headache."

"I got - a load - of tranquilizers - in my backpack - if you want," Yuffie said helpfully, whipping herself along happily.

Tifa sighed tragically. "No thank you – the place starts up in half an hour, and _he'll_ be here again."

The chair came to a sudden, merciful halt. Yuffie shook her hair out of her eyes, looking interestingly windswept. "Bit more of that and I'll get chair-sick," she grinned. "Think of it Tifa! I just invented a new syndrome!"

Tifa merely gave her loudest moan yet and hid her face in her arms. Lying sprawled across countertop, her dark hair draping her in a shroud, she looked as though she were caught in the deepest throes of despair and alcohol.

"Aw, come on Tifa. At least he's kinda hawt."

Tifa refused to reply.

"Alright, _fine_. I lied. He's _very _hawt."

Tifa launched herself off the bar with a flurry of motion that sent Yuffie reeling backwards. "Do you have any clue how utterly and despicably annoying he is?" she hissed to a very affronted ninja. "Every night he comes by here, swaggering his stupid little butt off, flicking that disgusting ponytail all over the room, drinking away half the alcohol in the bar, and then has the audacity to _come up to me and ask me out_!"

"That doesn't cross out the fact he's hawt," Yuffie said stubbornly.

"Fine, if you like him so much, you can have him!" Tifa threw up her arms for emphasis. "I'm so sick of standing at the bar, minding my own business, then looking up to see that sick redhead _staring_ at me and _smirking_ at me and if he blows kisses at me _one more time_ I'll chop his stupid ponytail off."

"Woah, calm down, Tifa," Yuffie said, "first off, his name's Reno, not 'stupid redhead' or 'sick womanizer' or 'disgusting flirt' or whatever you've been calling him for the last hour. And, secondly," she continued, ignoring Tifa's mute gestures that Reno was indeed a stupid redhead and a disgusting flirt and et cetera, "why isn't Cloud waving his macho sword in said Turkey's face? I mean, if Vinnie had been looking at me like, "oh Yuffie I love you tons and I won't let Sephiroth get you" the way Cloud always did to you, I bet Vinnie'll be super pissed off by now. Enough to take off his shirt and ask Reno to step outside. Not –" Yuffie started giggling, "that he hasn't done the first part already."

"Problem is," Tifa sighed unhappily, choosing to ignore Yuffie's last comment, "I feel like I'm invisible to Cloud right now. He comes home after delivery every day and practically locks himself in his room. Denzel's half out of his mind that he's done something to upset him, and the stupid spikey jerk won't even talk to him."

"Which spikey jerk are we talking about now?"

"Cloud!" Tifa answered, but it was more of a sigh and a groan. "Yes, I admit we were great together after AVALANCHE, but he hardly even _looks_ at me anymore. And I – well, I want him to notice me. It's such a shame – going through so much together and nothing to show for it. And yes –" Tifa glared daggers at Yuffie, "Cloud's a heck of a lot _hawt_er than Reno."

"I got my own opinions on that, but I'm keeping them to myself," said the little ninja wisely. "Tifa, we gotta do something about it. Now would you rather try Spikey Solution No. 1 or Spikey Solution No. 2 first?"

"Sorry? Which one's which?"

"No. 1 involves kicking Reno's butt, yelling "Pervert! Womanizer! Freak!" at him at least five hundred times while he's bound and gagged due to my super ninja powers. Then, that's followed by chopping off his – hmm, _lower extremities_ as Vinnie would put it and burning them in front of his face. After that we cut off his pony tail and stuff it down his throat 'cause only girls are allowed to have long hair. Later, we –"

"Thanks, Yuffie. How about you do that in your own spare time?"

"Aw, come on Tifa, do you want to do this right or not? We're talking _honor_ here. Sir Red Spikes offends Lady Boobs, he gets his butt kicked. Wutaian – I mean _Nibelheimian _pride here. Cloud should know. You can borrow his sword to chop off Reno's b–"

"Let's move on to No. 2," Tifa said hastily.

"Ahh, this one's my favorite. It's not half as bloody though, so less points."

"Let's hear it."

"You go out on a date with him."

"_What?! _Yuffie, there is no freaking way I will ever let myself be seen with Reno, dead or alive or –"

"Hold your chocobos, girl, the Super Ninja Yuffie isn't done yet. You go on a date with him, and you thoroughly gross him out. I'm talking tough and dirty here, so none of that fluttery oh-Cloud-is-so-hawt-I-hope-he-rescues-me-again crap. You drink more than Reno does, you pick your nose, you wear Granny's gray dress that goes from your neck to your ankles. Thing is, Reno's in love with your boobs. Or he should be. So you hide it all. You let him see nuthin', you hear me? Later, Cloud's so pissed that you're off having a date with Reno without him, so he barges in on you two and declares his undying love for you. Get it?"

"Right," Tifa said faintly. "So what was all that about picking my nose and drinking a lot?"

"A_ ton_," Yuffie corrected. "Reno treats his liquor like water, so you gotta throw back more of that crap than him. Then, preferably, you throw it up on him."

"Yuffie, I'm sorry –"

"You get him to promise he'll pay the bill, first off. He's taking you out to this disgustingly expensive place, so you order everything they got. Our redheaded Turkey's got a bad case of big-head, so he'll let you do that just so the waitress (preferably a hawt one such as myself) doesn't turn her snooty nose up at him."

"There's no way I can finish that much food."

"I never asked you to, did I? You order it, it comes, you take one look at it and say you'll have chronic diarrhea if you eat it or something. Did I mention that it would be good if you belched at the end of every sentence as well?"

"Yuffie, please. There is no way I can do all that and look myself in the mirror the next morning."

"Fine, don't," said Yuffie, clearly hurt. "I'll leave you alone to wallow in the depths of your ridiculous despair, shall I?" She flounced off the countertop and moved to the other end of the room, which was rapidly beginning to fill up with patrons.

"Yuffie, I –" Tifa tried to stop her, but was smoothly interrupted by a male voice by her ear.

"Bit of trouble with the brat?" Reno asked her, tapping his electric rod with a cocky finger. His cranberry-red hair fell with a casual elegance around his eyes, the color of aquamarine, accented by two thin scars under each. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No – not really," Tifa smiled falsely at him, wishing all the while she weren't so nice. But then, it wouldn't do to cause a scene – not in her bar, crammed to bursting with curious onlookers.

"You worry far too much," Reno chided her, placing a long finger on the tip of her nose. Tifa did her best not to grimace. "Look at those – what are they? _Frown lines?_ At your age? Tsk tsk, this won't do. Let me see . . . what should I do to put a smile on your face again?"

Tifa wanted very much to say, "Get out of my face," but no, that was too rude. Instead she forced up a smile and said very politely, "I don't know."

"Ah, but I do." Without further ado Reno leapt on top of the bar in a ridiculously theatrical manner, seized a spoon and a wine glass and clinked the two together. The bar immediately hushed, staring up at the former Turk who held out his arms in a grand gesture for attention.

"Friends, Edge-ians, countrymen – which is to say, fellow drunkards – pray lend me your ears," he intoned. "I come today not to drink to Tifa, but to comfort her. Behold the deep trenches dug too soon in her fair brow! Seest thou her distraught eyes, darting rapidly through her domain, seeking – searching – pleading escape?"

Tifa was indeed rolling her eyes at the ceiling during this point.

"Mine friends," Reno continued in a bad Shakespearian voice, "mine kindred. I propose a way out of her deepest despair! I propose an outlet, a light at the end of the tunnel, a whajamacallit – sedition, seduction – no, that's not right – sacrament, sanction, salutation –"

"Get on with it, Turkey. My video cam's running outta battery," Yuffie's voice floated out from the back.

"_Salvation._ There, that's the word I was looking for." For such a simple discovery, Reno looked ridiculously proud of himself. "All right! Moving on! I propose, in the hopes of cheering yonder fair lady's heart –" he paused dramatically. "Drumroll, please."

Everybody ignored him.

"Fine, be that way. I propose a date," Reno said grandly. "Tifa, dearest, will you please go out with me?"

The bar sharply fell silent at that. Tifa felt a hundred pairs of eyes watching her, some curious, some bored, many of them jealous. She longed desperately to refuse Reno to his face – she would have the full support of most of the men, and Reno wouldn't dare lift his cocky head to smirk in her direction again – but then she caught a glimpse of Cloud standing at the base of the stairs, his blue eyes watching her intently. Tifa felt herself flaring up at that – _So, you finally decided to notice me_ – and matched his gaze squarely. Her voice dripping with ice and scorn, Tifa directed each of her words at Cloud.

"Yes, Reno," she said crisply, "I would love to go out with you."

The bar immediately went into an uproar. Tifa had never accepted her patrons' numerous pleas to date her before, so she was bombarded with countless whines and supplements – "Please, Tifa! What good is that redheaded doofus when you could have me?" – "I'll bring you roses the color of that idiot's blood" – "Who does he _think_ he is?! Some terrible know-it-all actor." A particularly aggressive male started making his way towards her, flexing his muscles either to threaten or charm, she wasn't sure.

"Please," Tifa said desperately, pulling a Reno and climbing on top of the bar. "Please, don't be offended. You are all lovely men," she could barely get the words out without gagging, "but Reno's proposal was extremely –"

"Romantic? Provocative? _Seductive?_" said Reno, grinning up at her.

"Er – yes. Quite," said Tifa distractedly. She had the bad impression that many of the men were taking advantage of the situation and looking up her skirt. "So please – don't fuss." With this she jumped off the bar. Much to her relief, the grumbles and protests died down considerably.

"Alright!" Yuffie whooped, sprinting towards Tifa, a video camera dangling from her hand. "That was great! You took my advice! Now all you've got to do is gross –"

"Excuse me, Tifa," Reno drawled. He looked cockier and even smugger than before, if possible. "So I'll be picking you up on Saturday – somewhere around seven?"

"Yes – indeed," said Tifa, choking the words out.

"Excellent. See you soon." With an elaborate bow, Reno spun on his heels and walked off into the night.

It was hard to tell who was more excited, Reno or Yuffie. She pranced around non-stop, chattering at an incredible speed. Meanwhile, Tifa sank into a nearby chair and hid her face in her hands.

"Ah, Tifa . . . it's not that bad. Just do what I tell you to and you'll get rid of Mr. Dramatic in no time. Where'd he come up with that crappy accent, anyways?"

"I believe it was supposed to be Elizabethan," Tifa mumbled into her palms.

"Right. Whatever _that_ is. Let's get started."

* * *

A/N: Stay tuned for Part 2, the actual date! Tell me what you think so far :D 


	2. In which Tifa has regrets

"I can't believe he still isn't here yet," Tifa muttered through gritted teeth as she cleaned out wineglasses with a vehemence that suited a far more vigorous task. "He said seven," she hissed to herself as she sneaked a furtive glance at the clock, "he's forty minutes_ late,_ I might as well wait here all night."

"Is everything all right?" Cloud overhead Tifa's angry words and looked over at her in concern. Tifa fought back an urge to say, Yes, of course it's all right, you dense, blind, insensitive blonde – but years of dealing with unruly patrons had honed her patience. She was about to reply when a truly terrible sound that resembled a cross between the death cries of a yowling cat and a maniac wielding a chainsaw split the air.

"What in the world –" Tifa cried, but was interrupted by what sounded like an army of offended geese, all honking at the same time.

"Er – I believe it's Reno," said Cloud, glanced through the window. "Yup – he's honking his horn, all right. You better hurry; the guy doesn't look too patient. Nice bike," he added under his breath.

Tifa stalked over to the door and yanked it open, ignoring the murmurs and guffaws of her patrons. She clambered down the stairs, and was about to start telling Reno off when he took a whiff of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke in her face.

"Reno –" Tifa choked, "I don't – like it – when people smoke!"

"Well, you ought to, since you run a bar," was the nonchalant reply.

"Take a look at yourself," Tifa said, all of Yuffie's carefully taught speeches that were aimed to disgust flown clear out of her mind. "You – you look like you haven't slept in days, your hair's all grimy and you smell like a drunk and whatever are you wearing under that ratty trench coat?"

"That, my dear," Reno replied, "is commonly known as a wife beater." And without further ado he launched the motorcycle away from the pavement.

"Wait – Reno, I haven't got on yet!" cried Tifa as he pulled away.

"Well, you better get on! We're almost late!" came the infuriating reply.

"I wonder whose fault is that," Tifa muttered as she finally caught up with Reno at the next intersection.

"You run like an old woman," was the rude reply.

"Well, you smell like an old man," snapped Tifa in disgust. "How many days since you showered?"

"No more than six," Reno supplied.

"How dirty is that!" gasped Tifa, regretting that her arms were wrapped around Reno, who was speeding down the street, his motorbike emitting the chainsaw-and-cat sound that she had heard earlier. "Is your shower broken?"

"It's very fine, thank you," said Reno. "But no, I have a special reason for not showering. It is you."

"What on earth are you talking about?" cried Tifa.

"Have you studied Life Science before, my beauty?" Reno continued. "Pheromones are secreted within sweat. Pheromones cause a distinctly manly, or feminine odor that proves irresistible to the opposite sex. Therefore, by not showering I am increasing your chances of becoming smitten with me. I have no clue why you're not swooning by now," he added, "this usually works."

Tifa affected a wounded silence behind Reno. This continued for several blocks, before suddenly –

"TIFA!" he yelled, snapping his head around, an expression of abject horror on his face. "DID I LOSE YOU – ah, no, you're still behind me. Good. You should talk more; I thought you fell off." He resumed speeding down the street. Tifa felt distinctly nauseous.

"Why is it that you don't get speeding tickets?" she groaned.

"Bribery!" was the immediate response.

It was exactly eight o' clock when Reno slammed on the brakes in front of a restaurant that appeared impeccably elegant and refined. "Is this it?" Tifa murmured, stumbling off the motorbike, which Reno had flung aside.

"My reservation was at seven-thirty. The darkest table," he informed an usher pompously.

"Sir, I'm afraid we're out of seating. It is half an hour after your reservation; I'm afraid we cannot accommodate you," she said, eyeing his tattered trench coat and many chains.

Reno took a menacing step forward. "You'd better, or I'll –" he started, raising a fist. Tifa grabbed at his arm uselessly.

"Sir, I'm calling the manager if you don't calm down," the usher threatened.

"No need, no need, Cheryl!" A whirl of black and white came racing through the door. "We've got the perfect table for the pair of you – it's very, very private," the waitress beamed. "Sorry for the delay."

"Finally!" Reno snorted ungratefully, ignoring Tifa's icy glare.

The table was indeed exceedingly dark and private, due to the fact that it seemed to have been set up rather hastily under the shade of a huge ornamental bush.

"Just recently imported from Wutai," the vaguely familiar-looking waitress chirped happily. "Aren't you lucky tonight? Now, can I start you off with some drinks?"

"I'll have tequila and gin," Reno said confidently, "and a sparkling water, I think, for the little lady." He leered at Tifa across the table.

"Very good!" the dark haired waitress pronounced, and raced away.

"Did you even ask me what I wanted first?" snapped Tifa. "Sparkling water is for wimps. I'm a bartender, I can hold my liquor."

"You look more like an old granny tonight," Reno observed. "I didn't want to give you a heart attack."

"I look like a _what_?!"

"An old granny," Reno repeated. "What's with the dress? It's so old it looks like it's got moths in it. Or is that food stains?" He leaned across the table, eyes fixated on her chest. "Yup – definitely looks like tomato to me," he verified. "Although the color of the dress reminds me of eggplant."

Tifa was so offended, she was nearly apoplectic. "You – you insufferable beast –" she managed, hunting through her memory for the many insults Yuffie had taught her.

"Now, if looking ancient doesn't sit well with you, you could always hike up your skirt," Reno continued. "I'd say two feet. Maybe three," he said, ducking his head under the tablecloth to observe her hemline. "Three and a half will do as well," he finished.

"Here are your drinks!" the petite waitress was back, beaming happily.

"Thank you," Reno smiled at her. "Yuppie, is it?" he said, reading her name tag.

"Ooh, you can read," she said, beaming down at him. "I love it when they're literate!" she crooned at Tifa.

"Just barely," Reno muttered under his breath.

"Now, can I get you some appetizers? The stuffed garlic mushrooms are particularly fragrant today," Yuppie offered.

"Yes, definitely. I think that's all, for now," Reno affirmed, ignoring Tifa's scandalized expression.

"All right! I'll leave you two alone," Yuppie said, tipping a huge wink at Tifa, who merely made a face at her.

"Ah, Tifa, don't look so pissed off. My mother always taught me to be the gentleman and order for the lady on a first date, since she is too ecstatic to think properly."

"I think you're the one who took leave of your senses," Tifa snapped. "Care to explain why you showed up at my place three quarters of an hour late?"

"Pleasant diversions," Reno sighed. "Women and wine; they will be the death of me yet."

"Do you mean to say that you were philandering with other women while I was cleaning glasses?" Tifa shrieked. Other tables were turning around to stare.

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean," Reno replied enigmatically. "You can turn around now, or I'll make you," he said, shaking a fist at the neighboring patrons.

Tifa groaned her loudest yet, and didn't raise her head from the table until an alarmingly intense odor of garlic hit her nostrils.

"Your mushrooms are here!" Yuppie proclaimed merrily. "Are you all right, honey?" she said, bending over Tifa's head in concern. "Do you need to take a quick break? The lady's room is right over that way," she said.

"Thanks," Tifa said wearily, and got up from the table. Behind her she could hear Reno placing an order for snails drenched in butter, with an extra dollop of garlic.

The restroom was thankfully empty. Tifa stumbled over to the sink and observed her reflection. Her long hair was bound into a severe bun at the back of her head, and her dress (which, incidentally, came from her grandmother's moth-eaten closet) hid every inch of skin from her neck to her wrists and ankles in a garish purple, with a ridiculous froth of lace at her throat.

"Good grief," Tifa murmured. "If this doesn't drive him away, I don't know what will."

She reached inside her pocket and came up with a scrap of paper covered in Yuffie's untidy handwriting. It read:

**Rules of the Game:**

1. Make sure all you talk about is Cloud, Cloud, Cloud (shouldn't be too hard, eh?) Reno hates him and Fenrir too. Make sure you mention that you think Cloud is a billion times hawter than Reno, although it isn't true.

2. Insult him every chance you got. I made a list of all the names you called him yesterday (titian monster, egocentric moron, self-satisfied slacker) but I don't think his vocabulary is high enough to understand them. I know I don't. So I made you another list, but I think you'll die before you say them. I looked up a sort of bony fish for you instead – aren't I nice? – and its name is the_ Jackass Morwong._ How cool do you get? JACKASS MORWONG ROCKS! GO TIFA! GET'IM, GIRL!

3. Belch in his face whenever you can. Pick at your nose, your ears, your bra, whatever (don't let him see what's in it though). Eat a lot of garlic, it's good for –

"Tifa, are you all right in there?" Reno poked his red head in through the lady's room. "You've been in here for ages! Hurry up, the snails are here!"

"Reno!" screamed Tifa in alarm, "it's the girl's room! How dare you!"

"I've been in worse places," retorted Reno. "Such as the guy's room."

Tifa hurried out through the bathroom door after Reno left. "Beast, moron, idiot – what was that word? – jackass moron? Morwong? The first half's enough," she muttered to herself.

She found Reno rapidly demolishing all the food on the table when she arrived.

"Ah, the mushrooms are excellent," he said around a full mouth. "Too bad you got here late."

"Never mind," said Tifa in relief, "I never much liked garlic."

"Really? Sorry to hear that; I got you _Pasta Garlica_."

"I suppose the soup is garlic too," Tifa said sarcastically. "As well as dessert."

"I tried," Reno said mournfully. "But they were out." Waves of garlic breath wafted over the table at her. His mouth bulging, Reno advised, "You should eat more garlic – very good for your immune system."

"I suppose refusing to wash is good for your immune system as well – ahh! What was that?" Tifa squealed, as a brown lump the length of an egg scuttled across the tablecloth.

"Cockroach!" pronounced Reno, seizing upon it. "Since it's so dirty, I suppose it boosts your immune system indefinitely." With that, he dropped it into his gin-and-tequila, where it waved its many appendages frantically.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tifa whispered. She didn't raise her head from the table for a long period of time, not even when Reno plunked his booted feet on the table and whistled Top 40 tunes.

"Lady and gentleman, your desserts are here!" Yuppie announced. She placed two platters of tiramisu before them, and left.

By this time, Reno was snoring rather loudly, perhaps due to the inordinate amount of strong liquor he had consumed. Tifa glared at him venomously, but it was wasted on the dozing redhead. Vehemently she reached across the table and grasped Reno's bangs firmly, raising it, then scooted the tiramisu under his face so that the chocolate smeared all over his features when she let go of her hold. Remarkably enough, it did nothing to quiet his snoring. In a huff Tifa finished the rest of the non-garlic dishes. She was contemplating all the nasty things she could inflict upon his insufferable personage (such as dangling him by his big toes from the top of Da Chao, dropping spiders into his mouth while he snored, smearing his wineglasses with cockroach juice and rat feces and toilet contents) when Reno suddenly awoke with a start, his face drenched in tiramisu.

"Eh? What happened here?" he said, bewildered.

"Compliments of the chef," Tifa snarled.

"This stuff's pretty good," he commented, scraping a finger over his face and sticking it in his mouth. "Wanna try?"

Reno reached over the table and attempted to force feed Tifa. In doing so, he knocked over his tequila-and-gin. The cockroach that had been imprisoned there escaped in a torrent of alcohol, some of which splashed onto Tifa's dress.

"Ew! Sick!" she cried in horror. "The thing isn't drowned yet?"

"Cockroaches can survive a day in water without drowning," Reno explained. "Maybe that's why I like them so much."

"Your check!" Yuppie chirped as she sailed over. "I hope you had a lovely time tonight; you're such a cute couple! Look at you! Feeding each other dessert, are you?" She smiled fondly at them.

"Tifa, you remembered to bring your wallet, didn't you?" Reno asked.

"What?! No! It's always the guy that pays!"

"Times have changed, darling. Women are liberated now! Free to pay for their male counterparts!" Reno insisted.

"I'm awfully sorry," Tifa stammered to Yuppie, "but I'm afraid neither of us brought money. If you let me leave him here I could run back home to get some –"

"What's this?" a male voice boomed. With a sinking heart Tifa looked up into the face of the restaurant manager, his face a very unpleasant shade of puce. She could imagine what they looked like: Tifa, with her dress drenched in tequila-and-gin-and-cockroach, Reno with his face entirely smothered in tiramisu. In desperation she pulled her last card.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but I used to be a member of AVALANCHE, and we once saved –"

"What's that?" the manager boomed.

"Um, a terrorist organization," Yuppie translated.

"Outrageous!" the manager declared. "It's dishes for the pair of you! And I'm sending the bill to both your addresses!"

* * *

"This is all your fault," Tifa hissed at Reno, an hour later while they were up to their arms in soap and dishes. "I'm never going to live this down." 

"Tough," said Reno. Without preamble he suddenly tossed a fork, followed by a spoon and a knife into the air. "Look – I can juggle!"

"Stop it!" Tifa yelled, and she brought a soapy dish down on Reno's head and cracked it (the dish, not the head). "You _jackass morwong!"_

"_What_ did you call me?" Reno asked furiously. Unceremoniously he dumped all of the dishwater down her neck.

"I – called – you – a – jackass – morwong," Tifa said through gritted teeth, flinging a spoon at his head.

"A _what?!_" Reno began to laugh, horribly and uproariously. "You're . . . you're . . . ridiculous," he finally choked out.

The upshot of it all was that the manager burst in through the kitchen door while Tifa was throwing everything she could get her hands on at Reno, who had collapsed in the corner, howling with laughter and pain whenever Tifa's missiles found their mark. In a towering rage the manager threw them both out the back door. Too mad to think, Tifa stole Reno's motorbike and roared off into the night. She was only a few blocks from home when a panting figure, sweating and reeking of garlic, threw himself on the seat behind her.

"Reno!" she cried out in dismay.

"Thief!" he retorted. "You're lucky the police didn't believe me when I said you stole my bike!"

"You deserve it!" Tifa said angrily. "That was the most disgusting date I ever went on!"

"Same here, actually," Reno replied.

"You – you –" Tifa was so angry that the insults wouldn't come.

"Jackass morwong?" Reno supplied, his mouth twitching.

"Exactly," Tifa snapped, and she screeched to a halt in front of Seventh Heaven. "Good night," she said, stalking up the pavement.

"What? Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" Reno asked, hurrying behind her.

Tifa wheeled around and slapped him hard, once on each cheek.

"There's your thanks," she spat at him, "I never want to see you again." With that, she slammed the door in his stunned face.

Reno winced slightly as he touched his fingers to his abused features. When he pulled them away, he saw that they were covered in chocolate. He shrugged, inserting them into his mouth.

"Very good tiramisu," he acknowledged, and headed on home.

* * *

A/N: Hope you had as much fun reading that as I did writing it. By the way, the jackass morwong really is a fish - a type of commercially important sea bream. I applaud whoever named it - best bit of info from Bio class all year, courtesy of an annoying-git-and-fellow-classmate who insisted I site him. Well, I'm glad I managed to stay awake during his presentation. 

Tell me if you actually laughed out loud, smirked, twitched your mouth, smiled, or cackled insanely inside whilst reading this chapter. I know I did, and I hope I'm not alone. Your reviews all make me ridiculously happy. :p

Next up: In which explanations insure and Cloud intervenes (finally!)


	3. In which Cloud intervenes

Cloud looked up abruptly from the stack of dishes he was washing when Tifa burst into the bar. The door banged against the wall when she flung it open.

"Tifa, are you all right?" he began, but Tifa, looking very much the worse for wear with her hair streaming down from a thick bun, her decidedly ugly purple dress stained and wet, her eyes narrowed and aflame, merely stomped upstairs, muttering epithets as she went. It was two hours later that Cloud finally summoned up the courage to knock on her bedroom door, carrying a mug of hot chocolate.

"Tifa?" he called. "Are you in there?"

The door flew open with a force that nearly knocked him backwards. "The idiot!" Tifa screeched. "I can't believe he actually did this to me!"

Evidently the passage of time had done little to subdue Tifa's rage. Ranting, she paced through the room, whipping around her mane of dark hair and spitting out her story in between gulps of hot chocolate. Cloud leaned warily against the wall, watching as she vilified Reno's actions to a point that was almost comic. It was when Tifa decided to imitate Reno's snoring with her feet propped on her night table, her head tilted back and her mouth agape in a huge yawn, that Cloud turned his face to the wall and very silently shook with laughter.

"And then, the retarded animal had the cheek to ask me to kiss him!" she exclaimed. "The stinking, foul, garlic beast!"

"You didn't, of course?" Cloud asked anxiously.

"I would die before his lips touched mine," declared Tifa, rather like a melodramatic actress in a bad soap opera. Cloud found this very amusing, and as a consequence had to turn to face the wall once more.

"The waitress was nice, though," Tifa admitted. "About the only sane person this evening. Not even you, Cloud, managed to – why, Cloud, why are you shaking?"

Up till that moment, Cloud had been consumed in a fit of silent laughter. Quickly, though, he composed himself and turned around.

"I've – er, I've been shaking with anger!" he declared. "Reno's behavior merits a great punishment," he proclaimed, in a gallant effort to win Tifa's heart.

"I'm so glad you agree," Tifa sighed. "I've a good mind to tell Yuffie off as well. First she made me agree to Reno, then she made me dress up in this horrible old dress and told me that the term 'jackass morwong' was a terrible insult –"

"What?" said Cloud, confused. "But that wasn't the terms. She wasn't supposed to – never mind," he said hastily when Tifa looked at him.

"Wasn't supposed to what?" Tifa asked.

"I said never mind," muttered Cloud. In a bid to look nonchalant, he stuck his hands in his pockets and started whistling.

"Cloud!" In one movement, Tifa leapt across the room and seized him hard against the wall. "You're a terrible liar," she told him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Everything!" said Cloud. Then he realized what he had said and hastily backtracked. "I – I meant nothing!"

"Cloud," said Tifa very quietly. "I don't wish to hurt you, but Reno's disgusting behavior has pushed my temper to the limit today. Now, I'd love chat nicely with you, but I'm afraid it's not possible. In other words," Tifa drew a deep breath.

"You'll let me go?" said Cloud hopefully.

"TALK!" she shrieked.

"Oh alright," he muttered nervously. "You see, I wanted to go out with you a long time ago but Reno started hanging around here flirting with you and I really didn't like it so I reminded him that he owed me a favor since I delivered free of charge for him once -"

"Wait, slow down," said Tifa. "Rewind. Did you just say you wanted to go out with me?"

Cloud hung his head in shame. "Yes," he whispered. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable double-slap. He winced when Tifa threw herself on him, bracing himself for pain.

"CLOUD! I don't believe it!" she said. Cloud slowly unscrewed his eyes. Wait, did she actually look happy? Her eyes were sparkling so that they resembled diamonds washed in rose and wine – "If only you asked me! Why didn't you?"

"I . . . I wasn't sure if you would actually agree," he confessed.

"Oh Cloud," she mumbled into his shoulder. "You complete, utterly, terrifically insane doofus. Of course I'd have agreed. But what does this have to do with Reno?"

Cloud sighed. It was very nice to have Tifa's head, albeit drenched in something that smelled like detergent, on his shoulder. He held her carefully, savoring the moment. When he began his voice was soft and low, caressing her ear with its warmth.

"You see, a few weeks back Reno started hanging out at the bar. He immediately started flirting with you, and since you're always so nice to your customers I couldn't tell whether or not you wanted him there. I was afraid to ask; afraid what answer I'd get. So I asked Reno myself if he had any interest in you, and to my relief he laughed and said he'd back off if I wanted to chase you. I enlisted his help in trying to win you over since he owed me a favor, anyways. Reno suggested that he make himself as disgusting as possible so that you'd give up all hope on him and go out with me, when I asked you to. Yuffie stepped in and offered to talk you into going with Reno. I'm sorry for the dress, though, and the business with the restaurant manager. I had no clue it would end up so rough on you."

"It doesn't matter now," Tifa murmured. "I'm glad it turned out this way."

"Me too," he said softly into her hair.

"Well, I guess I should be thanking Reno," Tifa laughed. "Funny how everything makes sense now. I thought it was wierd how badly he treated me. And Yuffie – well, I suppose she got a kick out of seeing me dressed like a grandma –" her eyes suddenly snapped wide. "Yuffie – oh my gosh – I get it now." She pushed herself away from Cloud. "The waitress," she whispered, "at our table. She said her name was Yuppie – I _thought_ she looked familiar. And Yuffie – she just got a new video camera –"

"So you're saying –" Cloud began, but Tifa was already halfway out the door.

"See you Cloud!" she called from the bottom of the stairs. Bemused, he stuck his head out the door, only to see Tifa racing up the stairs again. "Did you forget something?" he asked, only to have Tifa's lips brush his cheek.

"Good night, Cloud," she said softly when she pulled away. He could tell that she was blushing even in the dark. And then she was off, sprinting away into the night. Long after she was gone Cloud touched his fingers to the place she'd kissed him, and pressed them to his lips.

"Good night . . . and good luck," he whispered.

* * *

The sound of cackling, entwined with the mechanical sound of a poor quality television set floated through the thin walls when Tifa Lockhart arrived, breathless and fuming, on Yuffie's doorstep. Tifa pressed her ear against the oaken door and heard her worst fears confirmed through the recorded rumbles of a loud snorer, coupled with the little ninja's hysterical laughter. 

"Yuffie – open up right now," she commanded.

The volume of the snores merely increased. "Took you long enough to catch on," Yuffie's giggle cut through the air. "You should take a look at yourself on the screen – you look like an old grandma, blacked out on the table or something. Eggplant was right."

"Yuffie, if you don't open up I swear I'll break down your door!"

"Too late," Yuffie giggled. "I made copies."

"You made _what?"_

"Copies, darlin'. Vinnie's got one, so does Cait Sith, Barret, Nanaki, Cid, Shera, Reno . . . anyone else I forgot? Right, Cloud's got one too. I thought he had a right to know beforehand what you'd look like when you're eighty."

The recorded sound of a crash, a wineglass breaking, and a high pitched wail pierced through the midnight air.

"And, of course, how scared you are of cockroaches," Yuffie finished smugly. "You'll never sleep easy again, Tifa, not if the Great Ninja Yuffie's around."

The rest of the night was drowned in the crash of a heavy oaken door, a terrified squeak, and a murderous chase that lasted til dawn.

* * *

A/N: Whew. . . cheers to all who made it to the end without falling asleep or turning aside in disgust! Direct your loving, hateful, or apathetic remarks to the little blue box on the left side of the screen. 

1 point to all those who caught the reference to Caesar. (part1)

10 points to all those who found the reference to Shakespeare's Sonnet 2. (part 1)

50 points to all who recognized the phrase pointing to Anne of Green Gables. (part 2)

100 points to all who made the connection to "Pirates of the Carribbean: The Black Pearl" during Reno's proposal. Or was it "Dead Man's Chest"? (part 1)

500 points to all who found the Incredibly Weird two-word phrase stolen from pg. 704 of The Order of the Phoenix, American verison. (part 1)

1000 points to all who caught Cloud's insanely obscure reference to McCarthyism. Of course, if you're a fan of all things George Clooney, it shouldn't be too hard. . . (part 3)

What an awful thief I am. Ah, boredom drives you to dire straits.

Tot up your points if you have nothing else to do.


End file.
